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Zenith Point (The Sector Fleet, Book 4) by Nicola Claire (31)

This Had Supernova Written All Over It

Hugo

There were mercs in the crowd, I was sure of it. We’d walked into a trap, and the AI had spotted us. Why else call a red alert right at that second? I hadn’t had long enough to see much of the asteroid field out of the window, but it looked as though we’d been stationary.

But I realised then that the main boost thrust was spooling because I could feel the vibrations which had been missing recently through my feet.

Corvus?

I hadn’t caught a glimpse of the AU vessel out of the observation windows. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t out there and about to fight back. I couldn’t tell if that was excitement I felt churning in my gut or terror. If Corvus fired on us, would we survive it?

But I was grateful for the respite. If Price’s men were in the crowd, it wasn’t them spotting us that had caused Aquila to announce a red alert. We were bracing for manoeuvres.

Move along,” the AI said. “Nothing to see here. Move along.

The creepy bastard was using pop culture and colloquialisms. It wasn’t enough that Price was using the AI to manipulate and monitor people, he had to go and make the machine crazy. This Aquila was definitely Crazy Aquila. I shuddered to think what he’d say next.

The vessel thrummed beneath us, as hundreds of people pushed through the central hub toward their respective cabins. I kept expecting a tap on the shoulder or a plasma rifle butt to the side of my head. I wouldn’t have put it past Price’s mercs to just fire on the crowd to get to us. I could only hope not killing his daughter was still high on the leaseholder’s list.

We were bounced from side to side as we trailed after the surprisingly militant florist. She elbowed through the crowd without so much as an apology; back straight, steps measured, eyes darting. I was sure she missed nothing. There was something about her that did not say ‘Designs floral arrangements for a living.’ I thought perhaps it was more along the lines of ‘Kills mercs in her spare time and then eats their hearts for breakfast.’

Adi had made friends with this woman?

I glanced at Johnson. He was staring daggers at the back of the florist’s head. Yeah. She was ex-military. He thought so too. Why the hell had she not been seconded to security? Flowers, I thought. What a load of rubbish.

The crowd reached a bottleneck and we were all pushed up against each other. Those behind pushed into those in front and in the process, people started to panic. I almost shouted at everyone to stay calm, but I didn’t want to draw undue attention to myself. Mandy, though, had no such worries. She stuck two fingers in between her lips and let out a piercing whistle.

“We all want to live,” she shouted. “Stop being assholes about it.”

I slowly turned my head and arched my brow at Johnson. He shook his head back at me.

Who the hell were we following?

Tick tock,” Aquila offered eerily. “Tick tock. Tick tock. The mouse ran up the clock. Oh, and by the way, brace.

The ship shuddered. Artificial gravity gave out and then in the next second returned, making everyone groan and clutch their nauseated stomachs. Outside, someone, probably Corvus, had just fired on us. It wasn’t as bad as the hit we’d taken that had affected the gel walls. But whatever it was, we’d felt it. I could only imagine what was going on out there in the asteroid belt.

The thought of all those rocks hanging suspended in the void of space waiting for us to collide with them made me more nauseated than the artigrav giving out sporadically.

We finally made our way past the bottleneck into a cabin passageway. The gel walls dimmed as the ship took another hit. People were screaming, calling out for their loved ones. It was a lesson in humility. On the bridge, this sort of thing was so far removed. But to witness their fear, to not know what was actually happening; I felt it along with the pay-for-passages. If I got out of this, I thought, it’d make me a better officer in the long run.

We made our way toward the end of the corridor, the space becoming less and less dense with panicked people. Mandy, Adi’s interesting friend, swiped her wrist comm on a door like all the others, and then stood aside, waving us inside of it. I felt like I was back at military school. I double-timed it into the spartan interior and almost stood at attention waiting for the commanding officer to enter behind us.

The door slid shut, the screams and wails subsided, the ship rocked, but it was just background noise now. Mandy relaxed slightly. Still army. Still a little scary. Still the biggest threat to us right at that moment.

“Introductions,” she said, crossing to the small kitchenette.

This was where we told her everything and put our trust in a complete stranger. A stranger that undoubtedly knew one hundred ways to kill us. But we’d come here for a reason. We needed more numbers. I flicked a glance at Adi and then spoke up.

“Hugo Tremblay,” I said, missing off the captain bit. Cowardly? I preferred to think of it as strategic. A need to know basis. And this woman did not need to know yet.

“So, you’re the new captain,” she said, leaning against the food synthesiser.

So much for my strategic plans.

“And you two?” Mandy said looking at Johnson and Armstrong. She eyed them as though she was inspecting them for potential weaknesses. She probably was. Both men stood a little straighter.

“Lieutenants Johnson and Armstrong, ma’am,” Johnson said. “First shift. Bridge.”

I sighed and shook my head.

“Relax, guys,” I muttered. “She’s a civilian, not your commanding officer.”

Mandy smiled. It was all teeth.

“Ex-military?” I asked. She nodded her head. “How the hell did you slip through the cracks?” I demanded.

Adi looked from one person to the other, eyes wide and pulse jumping. I couldn’t reassure her yet. I was hardly reassured myself. And all my attention was definitely for the mystery woman whose lair we’d just entered.

“Ex-marine,” she said levelly. Not beating about the bush, then. Was that good or bad? “CIA,” she added. “Counter Terrorist Centre supervisor. National Clandestine Services.”

She was a spook. A spook with a background in guns. A head spook, I corrected, with a background in guns.

Outstanding.

I smiled at her; all teeth. She smiled back with bigger and sharper teeth.

“Took your time,” she said. “I’ve been wondering when you’d get here.”

“Sorry for making you wait,” I offered. “We had a few difficulties to overcome.”

“The brig? I hear that was a doozy.”

“Wait,” Adi said, hands on hips, lips pressed into a thin line. She looked cute. “You mean to tell me you’re…you’re…”

“Not a florist,” Mandy offered. “Couldn’t you tell? That’s why I let you do all the designing.”

“But…but…”

“Relax, kid,” Mandy said. I wanted to facepalm myself. Way to alienate someone; call them a kid. I might think Adi was cute and waif-like and mine to protect. But I’d never say that to her face. I knew my limits.

And hers.

“So, what?” Adi growled, almost as good as Ratbag when we teased him with a bit of food back in the pit. “You weren’t really my friend after all?”

Ah, shit, I thought, wanting to reach for her.

Mandy, for her part, looked stunned.

“I…” she started but didn’t finish.

I could have let her flounder. I could have rushed to Adi and offered a hug. I did neither. Both women would not have thanked me. So, I did what I did best. I thought about the tactical implications. And I put us back on track.

“Who put you onboard and what can you do to help us?” I said.

Mandy let out a breath of air, looking at Adi for a moment longer. Adi turned away and sat down in a chair in the corner, looking at no one. Finally, the spook looked at me.

“We need to talk,” she said.

Hell yes, we needed to talk. This was big. Bigger than us.

This had supernova written all over it.